There's something

so special about a moment that can be perfectly described by a poem you once read. Or a song you once heard, maybe even knew. 

 

 

This picture was almost one of those moments. It reminds me of a Carl Sandburg poem. Almost, but not quite. Close enough, I'd say.

 

 

 

Plowboy

 

After the last red sunset glimmer,

Black on the line of a low hill rise,

Formed into moving shadows, I saw

A plowboy and two horses lined against the gray,

Plowing in the dusk the last furrow.

The turf had a gleam of brown,

And smell of soil was in the air,

And, cool and moist, a haze of April.

 

I shall remember you long,

Plowboy and horses against the sky in shadow.

I shall remember you and the picture

You made for me,

Turning the turf in the dusk

And haze of an April gloaming.

 

-Carl Sandburg

 



 

 

(Never mind that this was taken in November.)